


Auror under cover

by CatSaidLi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Auror Training, M/M, Polyjuice Potion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatSaidLi/pseuds/CatSaidLi
Summary: After finishing school, Draco just can't settle for the life that was chosen for him. So he decides to take fate into his own hands. But with a reputation and a criminal record as irrevocably ruined as his, this new endeavour of Dracos might just prove to be too much to handle. Left without any options, Draco is willing to do whatever it takes to overcome the odds and make his way in this new, post-war society.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 9





	1. Epilogue: A general introduction to a specific Malfoy

Draco took a last, deep breath before he got up from his bed. Blaise was the only other male 8th year slytherin who had returned to Hogwarts after the war to finish their education and he had already left their dorm room for the ceremony. That gave Draco all the time he wanted to prolong the inevitable in peace and quiet. Once he would leave the room he had called his temporary home for the past nine years, there would be no return. The thought of that bothered the blonde more than he would have admitted in front of anyone. But in the solitude of the empty dorm, he allowed his fingers to gently run over the silver snake embroidered into his green bedsheets. He was thinking about how much his life had changed since the first time he had crossed the castles threshold. And how much it hadn’t at the same time.

He couldn’t wait any longer, the sounds of the last hurried footsteps from the common room had long subsided. The last thing Draco needed was for the whole school to stare at him while he tried to creep into the great hall for their graduation ceremony. So he did what was necessary as he had always done. After all, there were certain things expected of the Malfoy heir and even a war and a country on the brink of a cultural revolution couldn’t change that. His path had been set for him the moment he was born. His time of freedom would end with his days at Hogwarts and there was nothing to be done about it but to put on the signature Malfoy smirk and pretend that was all he ever wanted from his life. And if there was one thing he was good at, it was pretending. It was, after all, what got him through his last year at school.

  
Straightening his robes, he made his way out of the dungeon and to the great hall with long yet graceful strides.  
Blaise had spent the entire duration of their extensive morning beauty routine talking about how he couldn’t wait to finally get out of this beaten up, ghost infested rathole of a school. Even after a year of hard work from both, the older students and the teachers, the castle was nowhere near what it used to be. With every step Draco made, there were new reminders of the fights. Nevertheless, Draco just couldn’t make himself agree with his friend. Yes, this place was crap. Nothing like what he was used to growing up. Nothing like what would await him once he would depart the Hogwarts train for the last time. But it gave him something his life would scarcely hold for him from today on. The power to choose. Choose his courses, his friends, his actions. And some of his choices were poorly made, mind you, but at least they were his.

  
What awaited him at home was a mother who expected him to pick up exactly where his father was forced to stop, managing the Malfoy empire. Discussing how to bring back the glory old days with high ranked aristocrats over a cup of tee at 10 am. Investing what was left of the family fortune in striving new companies at 12. Screaming at the houseelves at 12.30 and then the inevitable meeting of potential pureblood brides to keep the family name alive at 14.00 o’clock. Knowing his mother, that one would keep him well occupied until supper. All in all neither exciting nor what he wished for his future but that didn’t matter.

  
His mood getting worse with every second he thought about his non-existent future occupation, Draco made his way into the great hall, over to the slytherin table, where he settled down next to Blaise.  
“What did I miss?” he whispered to his best friend.  
As if she had heard him, headmaster McGonigal rose from the teachers table to begin her first graduation speech as the new head of Hogwarts.  
“I am proud. Profusely proud to be standing here, on this final day of your education, and to be able to congratulate all of you on this tremendous achievement. From this day on, everyone of you will take their rightful place in the wizarding society as an important pillar to build our future upon. Regardless of the hardships every single one of us had to face in their respective ways, we will overcome the grief and loss of the past together. From tomorrow on, every one of you has the power and responsibility to pave the way into a bright new future, mindful of but never restrained by the past.”  
And so the ceremony continued with a procession of speeches and congratulations, a song of the Hogwarts quire and the excited chatter of the alumni as they discussed all the great things that lay ahead of them. Draco couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to any of it.

  
Finally, with a sigh of resignation, he picked up the diploma that appeared on the table in front of him. This was the moment his life ended and his duty began. And Draco knew that he had to give himself up to fate. Nothing to be done about it. And still, there was one thing he was very certain about. He wouldn’t like it. He wouldn’t be happy. But…

He could do it.

He was strong like that. Strong in his very own way.


	2. 1: Setbacks are only challanges in disguise

“I can’t do it. I can’t… I absolutely cannot do it!” Draco paced up and down in front of his fireplace, wildly gesticulating. The face of Blaise staring back at him out of the glowing embers of the fire tried his best to reassure the Malfoy heir at the brink of his third breakdown this day alone.  
“Of course you can, man. You are just going through a rough patch at the moment. You did a terrific job the past year. Actually… you kind of already did it?” Blaise tried to reason, because Draco had always been most responsive to logical argumentation.  
To Draco, it sounded more like a recording than a genuine attempt at motivation. Considering the amount of times the two of them had the exact same argument in the past months, Draco couldn’t really blame Blaise for his lack of enthusiasm though.  
“No, Blaise, you don’t understand. I am serious! I can’t stand this anymore! Not one more single day! I…” Draco paused irritated, running his hand through his hair. He was unsure how much he wanted to disclose to the other. He knew if there was anybody he could trust, it was his best friend. But his plan had not worked out yet and what if it never did? Putting his worries aside, he decided to go on. He needed somebody to talk to or it would eventually drive him mad before the family business had a chance to.  
“I applied for auror training.”

There was a moment of complete silence. It could have only been a few seconds but to Draco it felt like hours. He was serious about this. As serious as he had ever been about anything in his life. No one had pressured him to do this. For the first time it was him who wanted this.

He had thought long and hard about it. It was certainly not an easy decision to make for the only heir of one of Britain’s oldest wizarding families. But the prospect of coordinating borderline legal activities in the shades to regain political influence? Even worse, having people to do that for him, his only job being to pay and play the scapegoat, should it all blow up in their faces again? Not really what he could imagine to do until retirement. As untypical as it sounded for him to say, but he wanted to do physical labour. He wanted to pursue a career like everyone else, work his way up the hierarchy, earn it with hard work, no short cuts any more. He wanted to be able to sleep again because the work had exhausted him and give his always reeling mind a purpose to get up for in the morning.  
But he’d never actually admit that to anyone. It showed too much of a character he didn’t want anyone to know he had. Especially in times like these, were the hostility of people against purebloods was at an all-time high.

Draco was ripped out of his thoughts by a choked sound coming from the fireplace. Hearing Blaise laugh at something he was so serious about stung a little, admittedly. Draco tried to cover up his disappointment and seemed to fail miserably. He never managed to fool his friend. They’ve just known each other for too long by now.  
  
Blaise immediately stopped sniggering to adapt a more serious tone.  
“You really mean this, don’t you?”  
“Absolutely” the Blonde replied as confident as possible. He already felt insecure about his newest endeavour and now he feared having the one person he always relied on tell him what he secretly already thought. How ridiculous this was. Disillusioned. That they would never accept someone whit his history. It was moments like these, were he felt painfully aware of the dark mark that was covered by his long, white sleeve.  
But it was too late to back out of it. He had already applied so he might as well stand by it.

  
“Shouldn’t I have the right to choose a career, too? You know better than anyone that we paid the price for our actions. And the ones of our parents, too! Shouldn’t that be enough?” The truth in what he said made him angrier by the sentence. He had to remind himself to lower his voice. Even though his mother should not be in the manor at the moment, that woman had a remarkable talent to sneak up on you at the worst possible times. And the last thing Draco wanted was to witness another of Narcissa Malfoys trademark breakdowns followed by her guilt tripping him into changing his mind.

  
“You know that’s not how this works, Draco”, an exasperated sounding Blaise interrupted his friends’ thoughts. “In theory, this is all nice and good, but there are rules outside of the system that apply to people like us, too. Unwritten rules, but binding, still. Do you really think your mother would just let you saunter your way out of the mansion to do what? Staple some over-the-hill guys reports on illegal flobberworm exports? Do you honestly believe they would let a Malfoy do the important work? Think about it, Draco! It won’t matter how much effort you put into it. You’ll be lucky if you won’t get hexed the second you set foot into the ministry. How do you know your assigned partner won’t use the opportunity to get rid of you and blame it on you not being careful enough? They would probably not even bother to investigate it.  
And believe me when I say that the remaining pureblood families will not sit and watch quietly either when you become the secretary of a muggleborn who gets to do the fieldwork for you.”

  
Being lectured like this by a man only weeks older than him was starting to irritate Draco and he was about to say so, when something caught his eye to his right. He watched an owl settle on the windowsill outside to tap the glass with its beak. Blaise’s speech about all the horrible things other pureblood members might do to him became a droning sound in the background, as Draco slowly walked over to the window. Letting the bird in to untie the letter that bore the ministry seal, he silently cursed as it bit his finger, demanding a treat for its work. He grabbed a half empty pack of dried rat meat and threw some on the table to distract the animal while unfastening the letter. Once he was done, he shoved the protesting bird right back outside again. From the look in the bird’s eyes, it was probably trying to figure out a way to crap on him. Draco wished it good luck with that. It was not as if he was ever really allowed to leave the manor to give the owl an opportunity. It gave a last, disapproving hoot before it took off again, leaving Draco to his letter.

  
He considered putting off reading it for a bit longer but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else anyways. So, he ripped the envelope open in one swift move and unfolded the parchment inside. The letter was short. Too short. Draco didn’t even need to read it to know what it was saying. He did it anyways.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

We greatly appreciate the interest you expressed in starting auror training come august. We are certain that you would prove to be a great enrichment to our department.

Unfortunately, we have to inform you that there are no more apprenticeship places available this year.

Sincerely,  
Gawain Robards  
Head of the auror office

  


Bullshit, Draco cursed inwardly, crumpling the letter in his hands. No more places available? The schoolyear wasn’t even close to its end. The N.E.W.Ts were only due in about 10 weeks. He would bet his remaining fortune on the fact that these kids had done a rat’s arse to prepare for their life after Hogwarts, yet. Well maybe one or two of them. Every year had to have a Granger after all.  
No, the letter didn’t say it directly. Mainly to not give Draco the chance to sue his way into the aurors department by claiming discrimination, he suspected. But he was well able to read between the lines. Should he feel honoured that Robards took the time to personally tell him to go to hell?  
  
Fuming with rage, he tossed the ball of paper into the fireplace, just to earn a yell of protest.  
Right.  
Blaise.  
Draco had forgotten all about the other man that was still flooing him.

Blaise had noticed his friend becoming weirdly silent halfway through his rant and the object catching fire between his eyes explained why.  
“Bad news?” he carefully asked. Judging by the furious look on the blonde’s face, the question was unnecessary. They had rejected Draco. Blaise would never say it to his face, but he secretly thought that it was for the best. Sure, the life as an heir was not exactly what he dreamed of either but running headfirst into trouble like that? It seemed, well, a little excessive to him.  
“Look man, I’m sorry.” He tried again, “but these kinds of jobs? Maybe they are just not meant for people like you and me? There is plenty of stuff to do besides becoming an auror. Maybe you could start playing quidditch again. I could come over for a friendly game every once in a while. I’m sure Pansy and Vince would join us too, it _you_ asked them? Or maybe you could breed peacocks like your father did. Something like that. Anything, really, that lets you keep a low profile?”

Draco’s expression softened a bit and Blaise was relieved to see that his words seemed to have the desires effect. Namely Draco not waltzing into the ministry, wand in hand, demanding to speak to the person responsible for his rejection. He had an important meeting coming up soon and he would hate to leave his friend infuriated. Anger management was not one of Draco’s strong suits.

Unbeknownst to him, his words had sparked something in Draco. But it sure as hell was not the acceptance he had aimed for.  
Maybe jobs like these aren’t meant for people like you and me, Blaise had put it. Did Draco miss a memo? Was the war not actually all about people being equal?  
If he accepted now that he shouldn’t be given the same chances everybody else was given, he might as well go to the Wizengamot again to plead guilty. Only this time, there would be no noble Potter to save him from sharing bunks with his father in Azkaban.

  
Oh no. This was not how his life was going to be from now on. There was already an idea forming in his head. It would take all his knowledge of potions and enchantment, a lot of time and a fair amount of money, but it just might work. He would have to break a rule or two in the process but that didn’t concern him too much. It would be like an odd salute to his past before changing sides for good. Anyways, he was willing to take the risk to escape this marbel prison.

Making a mental list of his next steps, he quickly bid a confused Blaise farewell. He would have to hurry if he wanted to make it to Borgin and Burke’s before closing time.


	3. The long road to success

Draco wandered down the row of cauldrons that contained the seventh batch of his latest experimental potion. Polyjuice potion, to be precise. With him brewing a batch of it every month since his application was turned down by Robards, fuck Robards, his basement laboratory served as a humiliating timeline of his failure of the last three quarters of the year. He made progress, if you wanted to call ruling out options that had failed miserably any progress. But this was not as easy as Draco had imagined it to be. Not, that he had thought this to be a walk in the park to begin with. After all, he was about to create something that no one had managed to create before.  
Great inventions take great effort. And it was a common practice for the brightest minds of the wizarding community to disappear for years before returning with something that would change the world forever.  
Hiding in your mansion’s cellar for 7 months didn’t seem so bad in comparison.

  
Draco chuckled a little at the thought. The fumes must have gotten to him, otherwise he would never dare to compare himself to the elite of the wizarding academics. He wasn’t that full of himself… anymore. Plus, the rows of failed attempt did a great job of keeping him humble. He would have to start saving money from his monthly allowance if he wanted to keep his project hidden from his mother. This must have cost him a little fortune already, but one he was willing to invest.

The blonde stopped in front of a furiously bubbling potion, leaning over it to better observe the reaction it had to the latest added ingredient. It didn’t seem to do so well and Draco was about to note that down on his clipboard, when the potion produced an especially aggressive bubble, spraying murky greenish goo all over his black sweater. He sighed and vanished the fluid with a flick of his wand, going on like nothing had happened. This was not the first time he had ruined an article of clothing. Last week, the explosion of one of his cauldrons had caused everything that came in contact with the concoction it contained to spout strawberry blond fur. Ridiculously resilient fur, too! It took him several hours to get rid of the shiny, soft beard that had appeared on only the left side of his face. Draco groaned in resignation at the memory. It was frustrating, really, because it was all trial and error.

The making of the Polyjuice potion usually went all right. It was an easy task for someone as accomplished in the arts of brewing as he was. It was when he added the amulets where it all went downhill.

A simple Polyjuice potion wouldn’t be enough to deceive an entire department of aurors, of course. Plenty had tried and they had earned themselves a free weekend in the Azkaban resort and spa. Draco was not going to join so he had developed a plan. If he was able to infuse something, say an inconspicuous looking pendant and ring, with the potion and get it to take on its properties, they shouldn’t be able to notice. Technically. Draco could never be sure until he tried it, of course, but he was relatively optimistic. After all, they checked for bewitched stuff and potions in your blood circuit and none of that should apply to what he was planning to do. If it functioned the way he intended it to, the necklace and ring should work superficially, only changing the immediate area around itself. It should slowly but continuously give off the potion to the specific body parts, namely his head and neck as well as his left arm, concealing his identity and his dark mark.

His research on the topic of transmiting qualities from a magical object to a non-magical one proved that it was likely possible, somehow.  
In Siberia, there was a former Durmstrang alumni, who had apparently managed to turn his favourite pig into a living patronus. Admittedly, he seemed to have been a little out of it so no one had bothered to look into how he had done it, but there were witnesses saying that it actually worked. And only two of them had warned the reporters that mole people were going to take over the world after the interview had ended.

Okay maybe Draco was a little desperate at this point, clinging onto every bit of hope he could get hold of. But everyone else turning out to be raging lunatics didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to make it happen.

Some of the metals seemed to be a more beneficial addition to the potion while some seemed to make it self-destruct. Palladium, for example appeared to slow down the brewing process. But it also seemed to make the potion last longer once it was finished. Maybe, if he was able to combine it with something else…?  
The thought in mind, Draco set off to make yet another batch of the potion.

***

It was two months later that the persistency of the Malfoy heir finally began to pay off. Nine months into the experiment he stuck a pair of tweezers into the cauldron to retrieve his first, hopefully working, necklace. He had figured out that softer stones tended to integrate the potion better into their structure and a few more tests later, amber turned out to be the perfect candidate. Embedded in a palladium pendant, it had kept its solid hull but after a month of brewing, the core of the gem had liquified again, holding a fair amount of honey coloured Polyjuice potion.  
It had taken Draco a lot of effort and visits to filthy muggle bars to find a donor for hair that would turn the potion the right amber colour, who was also a muggle and reasonably attractive.   
After all, if he was going to spend the majority of his career as someone else, that someone was not going to be a middle aged, balding, greasy guy with a horrible rash. And Draco had learned that there were a lot of those hanging around bars at 2 am. So, he had settled for the barkeeper of one of the less shabby looking places. It would be easy to track the man down, should Draco need to collect some more hair. And the fact that the bar was located in a remote village in the south of Sweden should make sure that none of his soon-to-be colleagues accidentally stumbled upon his doppelganger, revealing his masquerade.

Searching the Potion with his tweezers again, Draco managed to get a hold of his second piece of jewellery. He pulled out a decent looking signet ring, nothing too pretentious but amber encrusted for obvious reasons. Together, they should do the trick, Draco imagined.  
Now, they only needed to work.  
Well, there was but one way to find out, he thought to himself, grabbing his new creations.  
Walking in front of a mirror, he sucked in a shaky breath. This was it. Nine months of hard work, his future and probably the rest of his sanity all depended on this very moment. Merlin, was he nervous.

Shaky fingers slipped the ring on to his left hand and then he waited.  
Several seconds passed without anything happening and an overwhelming sensation of disappointment hit his stomach like a punch. He felt a little light headed. So much effort, time, hard work had gone into this. He had wanted it to work so badly, what more could he have done?  
Draco stroked his hand through his hair, pulling slightly at it to release some of his frustration when he felt a weird sensation on his scalp.  
Taking a closer look, he could see the skin on his forearm bubble, stretching out a little. His mark began to fade out and a weird crunching noise informed him of his fingers shifting, too.  
It worked! It really worked.  
Draco couldn’t suppress a celebratory laugh. It might have sounded a little hysterical, but he didn’t care at the moment.  
Grinning like a madman, he put the necklace on as well. It was a little tricky with a hand that was slightly heftier than his original one. But you had to take a really close look at it to notice and Draco was sure that the remaining time was enough for him to get used to it.

He was in awe at the sight that presented itself in front of him. Just like it had with his arm, it took a few seconds for the potion to work on his head, too. But once it had started, his neck became a bit wider, a little bit of blonde stubble emerging from his chin and cheeks. The skin colour on his shoulders, neck, chest and face became the slightest bit more tanned but he could easily blame that on sun exposure while wearing a tank top or something. No one had to know that he wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those horribly distasteful things.  
His hair turned a bit darker but Draco still liked it. It had lost the white shimmer that gave generations of Malfoys a transcendental air but it was not dirty blonde either. Draco decided, that he could work with it. He needed to trim it though because the man he had picked the hair from had a little bit of a pale surfer dude vibe going on and while that worked for some men, Draco didn’t really believe he was one of them.

His eyes shifted apart a little and changed colour to a dark blue. They seemed less sunken in and the thickening brows made them look smaller than they really were. After watching his jaw broaden and his nose shorten just the slightest bit, the skin on his face seemed to calm down again. He stepped closer to the mirror to examine his new look. As expected, it was close enough to his usual self that he still found himself attractive but changed enough to not risk anyone accidentally exposing him. Didn’t they always say a good liar kept as close to the truth as possible? And Draco needed to be a darn good liar for this. Luckily enough, he has had his fair share of experience in the past.

There were only two things left to do now.  
Send the already prepared application for his new, fake identity to the ministry and floo Blaise for a party night in celebration of his genius.

The letter confirming his admission flew in before he could even leave the house that evening. Of course it did, Draco thought with a smirk. His marks were flawless. Well, most of them anyways.  
He deserved a chance and he was going to prove them wrong for ever turning him down in the first place.  
But before that, he had earned himself a nice firewhiskey or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me and my long ass build-up, please.  
> I just like thorough introductions, I guess.  
> But Harry is gonna make his appereance in the next chapter! Finally!

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading. It's much appreciated!  
> This is the first story I wrote in years, because... well.. boredom in a global pandemic does funny things to you.  
> Also: english is not my first language so please ignore about 60% of the errors I made and we should be fine. If you feel like pointing them out to me, I will be glad to correct them.  
> I hope you had fun!
> 
> Li


End file.
